


Flame Trees

by fade_like_starlight



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, F/M, Not Epilogue Compliant, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 13:36:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8535220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fade_like_starlight/pseuds/fade_like_starlight
Summary: Kids out driving Saturday afternoon just pass me byI'm just savouring familiar sightsWe share some history, this town and IAnd I can't stop that long forgotten feeling of her Harry returns to Hogsmeade.





	

**Author's Note:**

> First written in August 2003, then re-posted in December 2007 with surprisingly few revisions to make it DH-compliant-ish (with one obvious, major change).
> 
> Posted now as part of my project to archive all my fanfic together.
> 
> Song: Flame Trees by Cold Chisel

The gates were the same. He doubted they'd changed in a hundred years. A thousand years, even. Certainly not since the war. Was it ten, or eleven years ago? He couldn't remember.

_Kids out driving Saturday afternoon just pass me by  
I'm just savouring familiar sights_

It was a warm feeling. Tinged with sadness, regret and the despair of war, yes, but a warm feeling. Like coming home. He reflected that very few places held that feeling for him these days. His flat. Dudley's home, surprisingly enough. This town.

The school was tainted. Hurt and anger and death permeated every room, every hall, every stone. Diagon Alley had been crushed after Gringotts. It had been rebuilt, of course, but it would never be the same. Grimmauld Place could never hold happy feelings for him. And he hadn't ever been back to The Burrow since it happened.

_We share some history, this town and I_  
_And I can't stop that long forgotten feeling of her_  
_Try to book a room to stay tonight_

But Hogsmeade - hardly anything had happened here. He could remember long lazy weekends, shopping trips and dates, Butterbeer and later, furtive glasses of Firewhiskey. He remembered study sessions and make out sessions, but Hogsmeade was barely touched by war - at least not for him. The bad stuff happened elsewhere.

But she was everywhere. He could sense her, feel her, almost see her. It wasn't altogether unpleasant, but he knew it was dangerous. Wrong. He couldn't allow himself the luxury of slipping into the old hallucination.

The Three Broomsticks loomed before him, and he smiled.

_Number one is to find some friends to say "You're doing well  
After all this time you boys look just the same"_

His room booked and paid for, he ventured back out on the street. He didn't understand why he was so surprised to see them in the distance - after all, he knew they would be there.  
The figures became larger and clearer, and as they walked into hearing distance, he felt himself let go. Felt himself relax. And smile.

'Hi guys,' Harry Potter said simply.

_Number two is the happy hour at one of two hotels  
Settle in to play "Do you remember so and so?"_

'And the Skiving Snackboxes!' Anthony Goldstein howled, smashing his goblet on the table.

'Carrow never knew what hit him that class,' Neville Longbottom took up the story, relating it to those who'd missed seventh year. 'In Dark Arts - everyone in our class took a different Snackbox ten minutes in - Carrow knew what was happening, of course, but he could never prove it.'

'Even the Ravenclaw girls?' Justin Finch-Fletchley asked incredulously.

'The girls came up with it,' Terry Boot announced. 'It was Mandy, wasn't it, or Padma?'

'Padma,' Anthony said decisively.

'And you'd know,' Seamus Finnegan leered, receiving a mild Tickling Hex for his trouble.

'What happened to Padma, anyway?' asked Dean Thomas.

'Took off with Michael Corner two months after graduation. I think they live in Australia now,' Anthony answered.

'Michael? But wasn't he still moping over the breakup with Gin-,' Neville cut himself off as they all cautiously looked at Harry.

_Number three is never say her name._

He excused himself not long after that. He wanted to walk. Walk and think. It wasn't something he'd done much of, not during the war, not after. But it was time to lay his demons down. 

Ginny Weasley was here, in this town. He could feel her.

The world was nothing without her. Had been for ten years. Nothing reminded him of her so much as this town, nothing hurt quite as much, and there was nowhere he'd rather be.

  
He didn't want to know the world without her, and he couldn't allow himself to imagine it with her.

But she was here. He knew it. He wanted it. 

He wanted to feel her. To touch her hair, her skin, her lips. To hear her laugh, to see her eyes flash, to smell her cinnamon perfume. To do all the things he wouldn't do when she was alive, the things he couldn't do now she was dead.

_Oh the flame trees will blind the weary driver_  
_And there's nothing else could set fire to this town_  
_There's no change, there's no pace_  
_Everything within its place_  
_Just makes it harder to believe that she won't be around_

His mind filled, he'd walked the loop of the town, and was now back in front of the Three Broomsticks. His mates had spilled out onto the veranda by now, and he could hear their carefree laughter. He wanted it. He wanted to leave his demons behind and go drink with his friends. He didn't want to hear Weasley voices in his head accusing him.

_But Ah! Who needs that sentimental bullshit, anyway  
Takes more than just a memory to make me cry_

He was the fucking Boy Who Lived. What should it matter to him if one more girl died during the war? There were freaking hundreds. He could probably name most of them without a second thought. Susan Bones. Natalie MacDonald. Sybil Trelawney. Tonks. Lisa Turpin. He felt bad for all of them - awful for some - but that was the risk they took. Why should the death of Ginny Weasley affect him any more than the deaths of so many others?

_I'm happy just to sit here round a table with old friends  
And see which one of us can tell the biggest lies_

Seamus was once more embellishing the stories of his love life. Sex life, to be honest. Dean was ignoring him in the knowing way of a best friend.

Terry was regaling them with stories of work in the Ministry and Anthony had the latest Quidditch gossip from the League.

Ernie MacMillan was spouting theories and opinions on any and every topic that was raised.

Neville was quietly watching Harry.

Harry was looking across the street.

_There's a girl falling in love near where the pianola stands_  
_With her young local factory out-of-worker, holding hands_  
_And I'm wondering if he'll go or if he'll stay._

If he'd stayed, would life be different? Would she have been killed that day if he'd done what he promised to do, and stayed? It had been a choice. He'd had to make it, he was the only one. Ginny - the girl he'd wanted to marry, the girl he'd loved, the girl he couldn't admit it to - or Hermione. Hermione Granger, his almost-sister. His closer-than-sister. He didn't have words for Hermione. It would always be that way. He loved her more than anything. Even more than Ginny. As much as he'd loved Ron.

The Muggle picture theatre in his mind started up again.

 

***

 

'Harry. Harry, we can't stay here. He knows where we are, we have to move,' Ginny whispered insistently. The Quidditch pitch around them was littered with bodies. Bodies cloaked in black robes, impossible to see if they were students or Death Eaters. Down by the goalposts, people were moving. Tall people. Death Eaters. Harry shook his head. 

'No. No, if we move, they'll see us. Stay here. Don't move. When they come closer, we'll ambush them.' It wasn't much of a plan, but it was the best he could do. He needed Ron for the plans. Hermione for the spells. Ginny was his courage.

'Okay,' she whispered softly. 'I'll stay with you. But will you stay with me?'

What had she meant? Hadn't she heard his plan? Of course he was staying here. He looked down at her, dirt-streaked and messy, lying in the mud next to him, wand clasped firmly in her hand, eyes fierce and determined. How, in all this horror and tragedy, did she still smell like cinnamon? Suddenly, her meaning flashed before him.

'Oh,' he said under his breath, then louder, 'Yes, I'm staying. I'll stay with you forever, Ginny Weasley.'

She smiled and they shared one perfect, sweet kiss before Voldemort arrived and stole it all away.

 

***

He didn't notice Neville sitting beside him. He didn't notice the tears forming at the corners of his eyes. But he noticed the sad, dirty, red haired girl shimmering across the street, silently accusing him of murder.

_Do you remember, nothing stopped us on the field  
In our day_

'You can't blame yourself, Harry,' Neville said quietly, looking at the girl and her lover. 'It wasn't your fault.'

It wasn't your fault. How many times had people said those words to him? Dumbledore. McGonagall. Kingsley. Hermione. Molly Weasley. It was all his fault. Everything was. Cedric. Sirius. Dobby. Fred. Tonks. Lupin. And Ginny.

'Have you even spoken to Ron or Hermione since the war?' Neville's voice, soft but sure, calm, but cutting, drifted across his mind.

What could he say to Ron or Hermione? 'Hey, glad I saved your life, but gee, sorry 'bout your sister, mate.'

'Ginny knew the risks, Harry. She knew what she was doing and she knew how to defend herself.'

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block the second half of the movie in his mind. It didn't work. It never did.

 

***

 

A cold laugh echoed across the field. 'Well, well, if it isn't the little Mudblood,' Voldemort mocked, looking below the Hufflepuff Quidditch Stand, where Hermione had attempted to shield herself.

Harry and Ginny could hear a muffled voice answer, but they couldn't make out the words. They watched Voldemort straighten.

'Oh, I'm sure you're right, girl. But you're a smart one, let's test your theory. Imperio!'

'No!' Harry gasped. Of all the spells… Hermione couldn't resist Imperio.

She wandered out from under the bleachers. Harry recognised the blank look of bliss.

'Now I have your full attention, dear girl, why don't you show me where your little boyfriend is hiding?'

Hermione picked her way delicately through the bodies. Before long, she was standing triumphantly before the dead body of Viktor Krum.

'Idiot girl,' Voldemort hissed. 'Crucio!'

Harry stiffened. He couldn't listen to Hermione go through that - but if he moved, his and Ginny's hiding place would be revealed…

Hermione screamed - and that was the only answer Harry needed. He ran to her aid - but even as he left Ginny's side, he heard them closing in. He attacked Voldemort as he heard Lucius Malfoy utter the final words of Ginny's life.

'Avada Kedavra!'

 

*** 

She was here. He could feel her, sad and weary and accusing. Why didn't you stay with me?

This town, like so many other places in his life, was tainted with the stench of death and war and defeat.

_Oh the flame trees will blind the weary driver_  
_And there's nothing else could set fire to this town_  
_There's no change, there's no pace_  
_Everything within its place_  
_Just makes it harder to believe that she won't be around_


End file.
